Fires
by Phantom Gypsy
Summary: "Whether as a thief or a prostitute, you learned to barricade your heart or you risk losing it to the underworld." A narrative account of the life of Tokio and how she and the Wolf of Mibu came to be. Told from Tokio's POV; TokioxSaitou & TokioxOkita
1. Prologue

**Fires break out in the city all the time. This one was no different.**

Partly because I was frozen to my core and partly because I was hypnotized by the massive blaze, I watched the whorehouse burn. It was quite symbolic, actually. There were so many feuds that went on inside that building…so much strife between and within people. It made sense that it would all go up in flames someday.

I would later come to learn that there were only four survivors. Two of them relocated to different whorehouses. The third woman committed suicide not long after the fire. And me. I had nothing else other than the skimpy kimono on my back and a hidden kodachi strapped to my thigh, but unlike the other women, I knew there was no going back to the way things were. Nor was this the end. Hours later, the last ember finally exhausted its last glowing breath upon a mound of black ashes and I began walking down the dirt street. Into the rising sun, reflecting the redness of the war-torn, bloodied land of this nation, I walked.

**Japan. 1866.**

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A/N: This is the prologue to my most detailed, ongoing fanfic yet. There are some time jumps, but I hope it's all clear enough to follow. And to anyone that bothers to read this-you are AMAZING. **


	2. Okita Souji

_**Several months earlier…**_

_"Tokio! Tokio, look who's coming!"_

_ The scantily dressed women clustered around the bamboo bars of the giant cage, eager to catch glimpses of the approaching men. I had been sitting quietly at the farthest corner of the display enclosure, until I saw that familiar streak of blue and white uniform strolling down the street. He had brought quite a few men with him this time, which I assumed he had planned, so as to keep the other women from eavesdropping by our door._

_ As the officers toyed with the girls in the pen, I stood silently and retreated back into the main house, following a routine I could've done blind and deaf. The mistress of the brothel stalked and pestered me like the old hen that she was, threatening that whippings were in store if I didn't make good money out of him this time. The room was prepared, the futons laid out, the lanterns lit, the sake hot. I also brought up a tray of steaming tea, knowing full well that my particular customer didn't care much for rice wine._

_ Tucking my kimono against my shins, I folded me knees beneath me and gracefully sat. I had just enough time to smile to myself before the door slid open and he walked inside. _

_ "Tokio."_

_ When he closed the door behind him, I stood and moved over to him and did the most untraditional thing that would have given the headmistress a heart attack if she saw._

_ I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. _

_ "Hello, Okita."_

_ He squeezed back harder until I squeaked as the last bit of air left my lungs. _

_ "It's good to see you again," he said kindly and pulled away so we could properly see each other. _

_ Okita was a very handsome young man, hardly 23, and yet he was one of the most skilled swordsman in the entire war. He was the youngest commanding officer that I'd ever heard of, and perhaps in the entire history of Japan, but he didn't boast the fact like most of his superiors did. Here at the brothel, he was more renowned for his beautiful grey eyes, slender, strong build and charming manners. I was not blind to this, nor was I ignorant of the fact that I was envied by every woman here for being his "favorite."_

_ I turned away from his gentle face and kneeled next to the ceramic teakettle. "I couldn't help but notice you brought your men with you this time."_

_ He sighed heavily, removing his katana before he sat. "They could use a little…distraction. We're actually on our ways south to meet with the other squads. It's not a particularly long journey, but they need a break from the daily blood baths we seem to be taking lately." _

_ He took the steaming cup of tea gratefully, and I saw him grin when his calloused hands brushed my silky fingertips. _

_ "Well, you Shinsengumi aren't exactly popular," I told him, watching him casually drink. _

_ He smiled into his cup. "We're not trying to be. We're just trying to keep a sense of justice alive through the course of this war… for all of our sakes. People have already seen what becomes of a country that's succumbed to evil and greed. But someday, they'll be living in the light of peace again. So we must preserve it…whatever the cost." _

_ Staying quiet was a good way to allow him to vent if need be, and it also disguised my ignorance, which always seemed to magnify when I was in his presence. _

_ He stayed quiet for a long time, staring into the shallow depths of his tea. I wondered what he thought about—and why he sought sanctuary here, in this room with me, rather than amongst his comrades. What was permitted here, that was forbidden elsewhere?_

_ Eventually, I saw his eyes lighten as his thoughts dissipated._

_ "You tired?" I asked._

_ He looked up at me and grinned wisely, as if there was something lurking behind his kind eyes and polite smiles. _

_ "Tokio, I would not come all this way to visit you, just to fall asleep. If that's what I wanted, I would've stayed at an inn."_

_ "But what you need, Okita, is a warm meal and a good night's rest."_

_ "Yes, mother." He chuckled. "How've you been?"_

_ "Bored. Hungry. Tired. Pick one. Not much different from an animal locked in a cage." _

_ He looked hurt. "Don't say things like that."_

_ Part of me couldn't believe I was having this intimate conversation with him. Then again, this was Okita Souji, my only friend in the world. _

_ "True things. It's been this way for a long time."_

_ "I know," he said, "but reminding me makes me wish I could set you free somehow."_

_ In such a profession as mine, you learned to barricade your heart, or you risk losing it to the underworld. His words were the only ones that managed to crack the iron gates I had built around my own, though he didn't seem to realize it._

_ At least, I didn't think so, until he gave me one of those grins that looked too wise for his face._

_ We talked well into the early morning hours, covering topics like political feuds, dreams, good and bad sake, favorite seasons, battle wounds, stars, and swords. I loved to listen to him talk. His voice was so soothing, so gentle; one could almost forget he was the commanding officer of a military force. And when he'd laugh…there was nothing I could compare it to, other than a bright flame on a dark winter's night. Inevitably, like the cold, lonely being that I was, I huddled around the sound and savored its warmth._

_ I had stood to move the tray of tea, or perhaps light another lantern—I couldn't remember with my head swimming in a lake of tea and hazy with fatigue. I was listening half-heartedly as he spoke of some Shinsengumi nemesis, when my foot caught the hem of my kimono and I braced myself to crash through the paper-thin walls._

_ But strong hands suddenly grabbed my torso, and held me in midair. With my face inches from the wall, I looked down at Okita, who was lying on his back with his arms around my waist. At the same exact moment, we burst out laughing. He gently lowered me onto the floor next to him, his arms supporting my entire weight even as he shook with delirious laughter. _

_ After our slaphappy giggles subsided, I think we both realized how tired we were. _

_ "We'd better call it a night, I guess," Okita mumbled. "Before you fall out of a window or something."_

_ I looked over at him. His eyes were already closed. The light from a nearby lantern played with shadows in the crevices of his handsome face. A sudden, inexplicable impulse took hold of me. Reaching around to the back of his head, I nimbly untied his Shinsengumi headband and let it fall on the floor between us. When he didn't stir, I raised a finger to his face and softly stroked his cheek with my finger._

_ "You're beautiful," I whispered. It was the last thing I remembered doing before fading away into a dark realm of stars and clouds._

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_**A/N: awwww ^_^ Okita. I love this guy. **


	3. A WellKnown Secret

_**The Next Morning…**_

_ My fingers closed around something resting in my palm. It was soft, relatively round, and clinked noisily when I tightened my grip on it. _

_ As I slowly opened my eyes to the glaring light of day, I looked down the length of my outstretched arm. A brown bag was nestled perfectly in my clutched hand, full of yen. Even though I knew he had left it as a parting gift, I sat up and groggily surveyed the room, a little feather of despair sink in my chest as I did so. With Okita gone, I was returned to the cold, unforgiving realm of the underworld in all its wretched glory._

_ Not yet willing to face the chaos of women downstairs, I stood, wrapped my hair into a messy bun, and paced the room several times. My gaze stayed glued to the floor, meticulously watching the lines of the wood grain pass beneath me. It was a numbing practice and helped to soothe whatever sickness was suddenly churning in my stomach. _

_ "Tokio!"_

_ With a heavy sigh, I snatched the bag of money off the floor and stowed it inside the front of my kimono, away from envious eyes. _

_ Downstairs, there were the usual packs of women, clustered in groups of three or four discussing their night's affairs. Like roaches, they lined the walls and doorways of the rooms, heedless of their reeking, filthy kimonos and sodden futons. A few men still lingered about, but I didn't see any blue and white uniforms of the Shinsengumi. Okita and his men must have left early. _

_ I fought down another wave of nausea as I entered the headmistress' quarters; a dark, damp room filled with thick clouds of toxic incense. _

_ "Tokio, my child!" _

_ She slithered out of nowhere and I quickly bowed my head, pulling the sack of money out of my kimono at the same time. The less time I had to spend with her, the better. _

_ "Last night's profits, Miss Yoko."_

_ I dropped the bag into her hand and stood back. The plump, sweaty woman's eyes grew twice their normal size and her rectangular, yellow teeth emerged from behind her cracked lips. _

_ "Quite heavy for so little noise coming from your room last night." _

_ "Sir Okita is a quiet man," I said indifferently. The woman was easily persuaded so long as there was money in her pockets. _

_ That toothy grin showed itself again and I discreetly looked away, hoping she did not see the color drain from my face._

_ "Since you've lured in those dogs, business has been good, Tokio. Sir Okita tells his fellow officers. The officers tell their men. Those men tell their friends. You see? Its been very good business." _

_ Suddenly, she grabbed the sleeve of my kimono and pulled me towards her until our faces were side by side and I was smelling scents that I'd rather not known existed. _

_ "I don't care if he's loud, quiet, or a mute," she whispered into my ear and I was abruptly aware of several yen being pressed into the palm of my hand. "Bring these men and their money to me every so often, and I can give _you_ good business too, Tokio. You'll be a regular oiran soon. Yes?"_

_ My fist enclosed around several extra yen and I backed away from Yoko. I humbly bowed, but said nothing. There was nothing I could say that could hide my disgust for this woman. I feared my eyes alone said too much._

_ Feeling as though my blood were curdling in my veins, I hurried myself back upstairs, ignoring my kimono as it slouched off one bony shoulder. My feet couldn't carry me fast enough to the room. Once inside, however, I stopped dead in my tracks. _

_ Azumi. A flawlessly gorgeous woman with a face of ivory and hair as black as her tarnished soul. She may have been the most beautiful woman in all of Edo, or even Japan, yet her mind was deranged, her spirit broken. After learning this through a series of scars, I avoided her at any cost. _

_ She looked uninterestedly over her shoulder, as though pestered by my presence._

_ "Good morning, Tokio." I ignored her and started tidying the room. "You look awful. Did he wear you out? You'd never be able to tell from the way the room looks." She ambled across the room as she spoke. "The futons don't have a single wrinkle in them. And it looks like you never even opened the sake." _

_ I was kneeling by the tea tray when she suddenly yanked at the back of my kimono and tried to peer down it._

_ "What about you? Did he leave any marks?" _

_ As though it were second nature, I whirled on my feet and slapped her hand away. Hard._

_ "Azumi!" _

_ The other woman's eyes narrowed as I stared her down, like tigresses trying to establish dominance through intimidation. _

_ "You think you're above the rest of us?" she whispered. "You've transcended the common whore and now think you're some favored courtesan?"_

_ "No."_

_ "Then you should be bedding men like the rest of us instead of hosting tea parties! At least you'd be earning your keep instead of playing with petty money!"_

_ "Money is money. And don't condemn me when you'd throw yourself in the street gutters if it meant catching a few extra yen," I spat, knowing full well that I should've turned away from this argument a long time ago._

_ Her face darkened into an interesting shade of gray. _

_ "How dare you! I expect to be paid for what I'm good at, and I don't intend on having my money spent to house a woman who is too prideful to do her job and sleep with a man like the harlot that she is!" _

_ Caught between the urge to laugh and the worsening nausea, I shook my head and backed away, but was careful to keep an eye on her. _

_ "Sure, Azumi. My pride is costing you a fortune we'll never have. If I were you, I'd be less worried about my pride and income, and more concerned with what you're going to do with your soul in hell." _

_ Her blazing eyes would have drilled holes through most people, but I was tired of her frustrated jealousy, her degrading disease she spread to every young woman in here who accepted her word as predestined truth._

_ The world suddenly blurred into a palette of colors, but I caught the quick gleam of silver thrusting forth from her hand like an overgrown tooth. She swung wildly, her screams striking true terror into my chest as I sidestepped her attack. When the blade hissed past my ear, I recognized the ribbon-laced handle in her grasp. The kodachi was my own. _

_ My mind overrode my ailing body as I assumed a defense stance against the madwoman. Dancing around her was easy enough, yet getting close enough to steal back my blade was a bit more challenging. Azumi's hysterical screaming brought the entire brothel upstairs. The women and clients alike crowded themselves in the doorway, watching like spectators at a sumo match. I had to end this. _

_ The kodachi pierced through the sleeve of my kimono, ripping it easily, and I regretted having kept its blade so sharp. Before Azumi had time to withdraw, I drew circles in midair with my arm, enwrapping the cloth of my kimono sleeve around the blade like a noose, and then pulled it out of her grasp. The sword clattered to the floor and an ominous silence befell the room. _

_ Both of us were panting, yet while I was distracted by a thin line of blood dripping down my neck, Azumi never took her glittering eyes off me. This hadn't settled anything, I knew. _

_ I picked up my kodachi from the floor. "Touch it again," I warned her, "and it'll be the last thing you ever do."_

_ I meant it. Not only for everyone else's safety, nor because I was somewhat protective of the blade my brother had given me, but because it would end her suffering if I took her from the world._

_ She thundered out of the room, and the bystanders quickly parted for her. Miss Yoko was nowhere amidst the witnesses, and I couldn't help but wonder if it was because she had grown accustomed to these brawls, or if it was because she was denying I could be involved in one. _

_ "Get!" _

_ I threw my arms at the women, chasing them out of the doorway and back downstairs. With my kodachi safely in hand, I wandered back to my room, unconsciously feeling my neck for that trickle of blood. The kodachi was kept in a small chest of my belongings in the corner of the room. Azumi must have stolen it while I was paying Yoko, which meant she was baiting an argument for an excuse to use it. Typical. No logical dispute, just out for blood. _

_ A heavy sigh escaped me as I slipped the blade into its sheathe and nestled it down into the clothes and papers of the little wooden trunk. Like anything that didn't directly endanger her business, Yoko seemed to ignore the fact that I owned a kodachi, even if it funded fights such as this morning's. So it remained a secret everyone knew about._

_ Fishing a mirror out of the chest, I looked at the reflection. There was a small notch on the side of my neck, but my kimono had made the true sacrifice. It hung only by threads, barely clinging to my white shoulders with a few splatters of blood staining the white embroidery. Stupid things. I missed the hakama I used to wear when my brother and I lived together._

_ My breath caught, trapped somewhere between my lungs and my mouth. A sickening twist knotted my stomach as the illness returned with a vengeance. I closed my eyes against the pain; from the stinging cut on my neck, to a glorious pounding in my head, to the wrenching nausea in my gut. Crippled by the overwhelming pain, I dropped to the floor and stayed there for a very long time._

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_**A/N: I'm starting to realize as I re-read these that I have a tendency to get a little comma-happy O_o **


	4. Fun

_**Several Weeks Later…**_

_Azumi and I managed not to kill each other in the coming days, and time passed without incident for a while. The sun rose and fell, customers came and went, and the days blurred into long hours of sleepless nights and lonely days. _

_ One afternoon as I was sitting on my futon, contemplating the wood grains in the floorboards, the breeze carried a small, pink petal through the window. As it floated through the room, my heart leapt for the sky and bounced off my ribs. It was the one day out of the year they would allow us outside the district walls to see the sakura trees in bloom. It was like being granted a single breath, and then having to make it last until next spring. For me, it was the hardest aspect of the life I lived; a brief, taunting taste of freedom, only to have it be denied so quickly. _

_ Not two days after my visitation from the blossom, they opened the gates of Shimabara to the outside world. Hundreds and hundreds of sakura blossoms wafted through the spring air, the clear crystal sky glinting with pink petals. Most of the women clustered in groups and rushed from shop to restaurant, regardless of the fact they had no money. _

_ I wandered away from the main streets and hordes, onto the small dirt paths that trailed the river, where the sakura trees were thickest. Once alone, I took off my sandals and walked barefoot on the soft, cool grass, letting the long branches of the trees brush across my face. Silky petals kissed my skin, and the sunlight that poked through the canopy of blossoms played with shadow shapes on the ground. I wanted so badly to be absorbed by the beauty around me, to have the sakura branches wrap their tendrils around me and hold me against the trunk of the tree until I became one with its ancient strength and energy._

_ Hearing the sound of approaching sandals, I pulled myself out of my reverie and looked up from the lush grass. _

_ We both smiled as our eyes met._

_ "I thought you might be here," he said. "You match the scenery." _

_ I rolled my eyes, even though he was being sincere. "Okita." He just stood there, smiling at me with those dark brown eyes. "I find it hard to believe that the Shinsengumi just happened to be in the area on this particular day. With nothing to do."_

_ "True. The Shinsengumi are still in Mibu and have many important affairs to take care of. But I _did_ happen to be in the area today, and _I_ in fact, have nothing to do."_

_ I laughed, falling into place at his side as we walked. "Your commanders don't question your absence?"_

_ "I am a commander."_

Fine then. Be that way_, I thought with a smile. I knew Okita to be a lighthearted, playful person, but some days were better than others. _

_ "And I'm the emperor."_

_ He raised an eyebrow and looked at me oddly. "At least mine was true."_

_ "Do they know where you go when you leave?" _

_ "Sure. I would've come earlier, but my pockets have been empty lately. You're not exactly cheap, you know." He winked at me. _

_ Frowning, I watched him pluck a blossom out of the air. "You make it that way. I told you not to come if you can't afford it. It's not worth it."_

_ "Yes, you are." _

_ Of all the things we discussed, I never really got the chance to ask him why, mostly because I knew he would never answer me seriously. Why did he visit me at the brothel and pay me just to talk with him? Why choose me in the first place? Why was I worth it? All questions I would probably never have answered._

_ "If you were paying me, then perhaps I'd agree. But Miss Yoko isn't worth the dirt on your hakama." _

_ Okita laughed and the sound warmed my chest. "Really, now? I thought she'd be so happy with the amount I gave last time, she'd share." He looked over at me. "No?" _

_ "Oh, she did. All two yen or so." _

_ His graceful steps slowed a moment as he brushed his fingertips against the side of my neck. "How'd you get this?" _

_ I'd all but forgotten about the small scar Azumi had left with my kodachi. It would fade with time, but of course nothing escaped Okita's sharp eyes that specialized in recognizing marks of blades. _

_ "Miss Yoko wasn't the only one to notice your generosity." I smiled reassuringly at him, realizing that he may try to blame himself for my injury. "And I was stupid enough to leave my kodachi unattended. It's not your fault, Okita. Things like this happen all the time."_

_ "Had it of been much deeper, you would've been in serious trouble," he said. "Do you need to be retrained on footwork technique?"_

_ "No," I laughed, seeing the mischievous glint in his eyes. "Okita, no!" _

_ He danced to my left, then my right, gliding with a grace that would put most geisha to shame. Like the playful child that he was, he mockingly "attacked" me. As I laughed, my arm was suddenly twisted behind my back and my ankles swept out from beneath me. But rather than pin me to the ground and seal my fate like the rest of his adversaries, he swooped me in his arms and carried me down to the river's edge, smiling at my half-hearted protests. _

_ "You lose," he said._

_ And he threw me in the river. _

_ My rear bounced off the rocky riverbed, somewhat painfully, and I broke the surface, spitting, laughing, and coughing simultaneously. Pulling my hair back from my face, I could see Okita on the shoreline, smiling and shaking his head._

_ "We'll practice this all night until you get it right."_

_ Now that my kimono weighed a soaking ton, I hauled myself out of the river on all fours, still astonished at what he had done._

_ "Right," I said as I began wringing out my hair, "I'd like to see you explain to the other officers why you were… are you ok?"_

_ He nodded, despite the fact that he was doubled over and coughing heavily into his hands, hardly able to breathe. A moment passed and his cough quieted, but I looked on worriedly; his face was still twisted in pain. _

_ "Okita?" _

_ "Ugh…allergies." I raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't have any real grounds to doubt him. "Really, I'm fine. It comes and goes, but only lasts for a few weeks."_

_ "That wasn't just a simple sneeze. You should've heard yourself." _

_ "Well, I might've inhaled a few sakura blossoms, too." _

_ Unconvinced as I was, I went back to squeezing the water out of my kimono. "There's no way you're a military captain," I muttered. _

_ He grinned as he watched me for a moment, and then knelt down, taking each of my hands in his._

_ "Come on. Let's go back and get something dry—" _

_ "No, it's ok." _

_ "Tokio, you'll freeze." _

_ "I'm not spending one moment of this day inside those gates."_

_ His eyes softened when I told him this and he silently released my hands. Watching the glittering river was easier than looking at him, but I felt our knees bump as he seated himself next to me. He gently grabbed a portion of my kimono and twisted it until every drop of water pooled in the grass._

_ "Fair enough," he said. "What would you like to do for the rest of today?"_

_ I pondered for a moment, content to watch the breeze sway his bangs back and forth in front of his smiling eyes. Suddenly, it seemed so obvious._

_ "This." _

_ He glanced up at me and grinned, then went back to tenderly pressing the river water out of my clothes until every silk inch was light enough to blow in the wind again and his hands were as wrinkled as dried fruit. _

_ The hours passed all too quickly. Before long, the trees were casting long shadows and the river's waters ran dark with the oncoming glow of dusk. Okita was laughing at something I had said when a figure standing on the far embankment caught my eye. His uniform matched Okita's._

_ "Okita?" I hated to interrupt his beautiful smile. _

_ "What?"_

_ "Who's that?" _

_ He looked back over his shoulder and I saw his broad shoulders wilt as a heavy sigh escaped him. _

_ "Captain Hajime Saitou." With a small grin still in place, he looked back at me. "This should be fun."_

_

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_**A/N: Allergies, huh? **


	5. Of Soldiers & Wolves

_I realized that Okita and I may have very different interpretations of "fun." _

_ The man wore the sternest expression on the harshest face I'd ever seen. Even from across the river, he looked daunting. It was amazing how he and Okita had the exact same uniform, were equipped with the same weaponry, even wore their hair in the same high-top ponytails, and yet I could hug one and wanted to run from the other. _

_ "Come on, I'll introduce you," Okita said as he pulled me to my feet. _

_ "Or should I leave?" _

_ He gave me a peculiar look, with that playfully raised eyebrow. "Why?" _

_ "I wouldn't want your reputation blackened because of me."_

_ "Nah, it's just Saitou. Besides, this is your territory. If anyone's leaving, it'll be us." _

_ I rolled my eyes and silently followed behind him. Why did the world have to be divided into territories anyway? _

_ We met the other officer—Saitou—on the bridge that crossed over the small river._

_ "Captain Saitou!" Okita's voice took on a slightly deeper tone, but that friendly, careless smile stayed in place. "I didn't expect to see you here today. What brings you to Shimabara?" _

_ "You, Okita. I figure it'd be quicker for me to trust my intuition and wait here, rather than try and chase your hide all over Kyoto."_

_ If he'd seemed intimidating from across the river, it was nothing compared to actually standing in his presence. An extremely tall, broad-shouldered man, Saitou had narrow, cold eyes the color of amber. His face was all sharp angles and lines; high cheekbones, sleek eyebrows, and a long, strong jaw line. Several strands of hair hung in front of his face, while the Shinsengumi headband neatly gathered the rest of his shoulder-length, black hair into a thick ponytail. _

_ I couldn't make up my mind as to whether he was handsome or unsightly. For all his harsh traits, there was a refined sleekness that emanated from him; the regal, fierce spirit of a true samurai. _

_ "Figures. For a moment, I thought it was a woman that lured you here. Guess I should know better."_

_ My gaze flickered back and forth between the two samurai, surprised to hear playful banter coming from Shinsengumi captains._

_ "Saitou this is Tokio," Okita stepped aside so I could be properly seen. "Tokio, Saitou is captain of the third unit of the Shinsengumi." _

_ I immediately bowed my head, ashamed I couldn't find the courage to meet the other officer's gaze. _

_ "An honor." When I looked up again, I thought I saw Saitou glare in Okita's direction, but the moment was too brief to be sure. _

_ "Tokio. It's nice to finally have a face to accompany the name." _

_ I glanced at my smiling friend, horrified that I was recognized at all. I trusted Okita with my life, but I dreaded what he had told his fellow officers; after all, how many good things can be said about a Shimabara prostitute? _

_ He just smiled back. _

_ "Okita obviously doesn't keep any secrets," I said. _

_ "Don't worry," Saitou did his best to sound reassuring. "He's not one to slander people, either." Then, as an afterthought that sounded almost…disappointed. "Even if he wanted to."_

_ I softly grinned. It was true. _

_ "Let me guess," Okita chimed in, suddenly switching the subject. "Hijikata sent you?" _

_ "You could say that. Would you excuse us, Miss Tokio? I'm afraid I need to borrow Okita for a little while." _

_ Bowing and ignoring the dismay knotting in my chest, I started to back away, but Okita's hand caught my shoulder. _

_ "Let's walk Saitou," he said, still facing me. "There's a good sake bar not far from here." _

_ He gave my shoulder a little squeeze, then turned back to Saitou, who wore a subdued expression of puzzlement. Both captains courteously nodded their heads in farewell and I returned the gesture. The dying breeze toyed with my hair as I watched them wander off, wondering what they discussed as carpenters of this shifting nation and the world that lay beyond it._

_ The sun seemed to set abruptly, casting cold shadows that still clung to winter and I realized the day was over. Sighing, I walked over the bridge and through the stone pathways of sakura petals, back to blank walls and iron gates and dark skies. Back to my world._

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**A/N: Enter Saitou. I'm curious to know what you think thus far! ^_^**


	6. Brink

_The rain came out of nowhere._

_ With the sun gone, I didn't see the storm clouds shrouding the stars until a bright flash of lightning illuminated the district in an eerie purple light. Annoyed at the idea of being wet after spending the entire day drying out, I walked beneath the eaves of the buildings to avoid the curtains of rain flooding the narrow streets. Most of the restaurants and inns looked inviting, glowing with the light of burning lanterns, but I scurried past with my arms wrapped around me. It wasn't yet warm summer rain. _

_ By the time I rounded the corner to the brothel, I was surprised to see my breath clouding in front of my face. Another flash of lightning lit the sky and rumbling thunder shuddered through the ground, up into my bones. I started to sprint across the street, impatient to reach the finish line of the brothel entrance, when I saw a group of men clustered beneath the roof overhang, heedless of the storm. Standing with them was Azumi and several other women, all consciously letting their kimonos slip below their shoulders as they laughed too loudly and teased too easily. The prospect of spending a night in the rain suddenly seemed a very welcoming idea. _

_ Slowly, dreadfully, I walked over to them, clinging desperately to the hope that I could slip inside unnoticed. _

_ As soon as I was within arm's reach, Azumi grabbed my hand and yanked me beside her._

_ "Gentlemen! Allow me to present miss Tokio; Shimabara's best kept secret."_

_ Unable to do much else, I nodded my head towards the men, most of who were heavily drunk. Mumbled words of approval reached my ears, along with a few other lewd comments. _

_ "Please, Azumi," I whispered through my teeth, but she ignored me. _

_ One of the men ambled towards the front of the small group. "What's the big deal? What secret?"_

_ Azumi laughed flamboyantly. "Don't you know? Only good boys are allowed in on the surprise. If everyone knew, it wouldn't be a secret now, would it?"_

_ Several of the women behind me giggled._

_ "Well, Tokio, I'm not exactly renowned for my manners," he growled, "but I bet I could teach you a thing or two you might enjoy nonetheless." _

_ Crooked smiles illuminated across the men's faces and I heard a clap of thunder echo my doom._

_ "I don't doubt it, good sir," I told him, using a calm, silky voice. "Let me slip into something dry, and you can teach me everything you know."_

_ Azumi grabbed my sleeve, halting me when I tried to escape inside. "And leave the rest of these good men out here in the cold rain? How unforgivably rude of you." _

_ "Yeah, wet or dry, it's all coming off anyway."_

_ "Come on sweetheart, stay and keep us warm."_

_ A rank breath filled my ear as one of the men snaked his arm around my waist and hugged me close. Discreetly as I could, I tried to pry his hands away from my torso, but they were quickly replaced by more groping hands. The calloused, filthy skin of merchants and farmers brushed against my own, and I could feel acid begin to burn my throat. _

_ Azumi and the other girls were laughing. "Help yourself to the free samples, gentlemen." _

_ I was doing my best to ignore her taunting words and the sloppy lips on my neck and face, but something within me was on the verge of breaking—like glass waiting to shatter once the perfect pitch was sung. _

_ Someone's hands were crawling up my leg, inching closer to the blade strapped to my thigh. Unthinking, I kicked the man in the gut, satisfied to hear him grunt and double over in pain. Almost immediately, the others seized me in a steadfast grip as they realized there was a threat to be had. _

_ My stomach twisted itself into knots and fury boiled in my pounding blood. Glaring at the man I'd kicked was the only thing I could do at this point. _

_ "Tokio, was it?" He lifted my chin. "Seems you need more teaching than I thought. Don't worry…it won't last long."_

_ He plunged his hands through the split in my kimono, but where he expected to find skin, he found the hilt of my kodachi. _

_ "What the hell?"_

_ The lightning dazzled the silver blade as he pulled it from its sheath, like a snake slithering out from under its rock. From the corner of my eye, I could see Azumi wearing the most beautiful, most menacing smile. _

_ The man that had me pinned to his chest reached around and grabbed my thigh. "What else do you keep under there, sweetheart?" _

_ "Yeah, what've you got for me?"_

_ I elbowed my captor, freeing me from his grasp until the next man seized me before I could reach my kodachi._

_ "Give it back."_

_ Some of them laughed. The man that held my blade grinned and ran his hand over its razor edge, drawing a thin line of blood on his finger._

_ "Sure thing."_

_ "I'd so as she says," Azumi chimed in. "Last time I took it from her, she threatened to kill me." _

_ "Really?" he smirked. "I think I'll take my chances." _

_ It was as if he suddenly forgot I even existed. Preoccupied with his new prize, he turned and walked away. _

_ Desperation started to sink in. _

_ "It belongs to me." _

_ "So it did." He looked back at me over his shoulder. "But such an exceptional weapon deserves better than to live on the lowly thigh of a prostitute. Be thankful that this is all I take, when you have so much more to offer."_

_ A sea of hands and lips darkened my vision as the other men swarmed me again. The man with my kodachi disappeared from my sight, leaving me to the vulgar mercy of his comrades. I was outnumbered, enraged, and distressed. Under no circumstances should I have done what I did and lived to tell about it._

_

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_**A/N: I'm trying to keep this chapters on the short side, because personally, I hate reading long stories with even longer chapters. I need lots of places to stop and pause, if need be. **


	7. For What It's Worth

_I lunged. _

_ Somehow, I broke free of the men's hands and charged through the crowd, just in time to see the man with my kodachi round a corner. He broke into a run, and I did the same, cursing the confining kimono that flared about me as I sprinted after him. Behind me, swords were being drawn. _

_ A hand grasped my forearm, and I wheeled around, not bothering to look at who it was before I threw a heavy fist. When he hid his face behind his hands, blood streaming from his nose, I grabbed for the shorter blade at his waist and took it. I wheeled around again, sprinting away before the others could corner me. _

_ The alleys were dark and slick with mud, but while I struggled to keep my footing, I realized it made it easier for me to hear my target's footsteps. Turning a sharp corner, I careened into the side of a building, grunting as the impact nearly shook the stolen blade from my grasp. My pursuers were not far behind, shouting, cursing, some of them laughing at the absurdity of chasing and fighting a woman. Up in the darkness ahead, a figure dashed across the alleyway with a naked kodachi gleaming in the moonlight. _

_ Splashing through thick puddles, I closed the distance until our chase brought us to a main street; something I had been trying to avoid. Darting through the late-night crowds, I fought to keep track of the man ahead. But it made for an easy trail to follow; I had only to look for the astonished faces and incredulous gasps. _

_ He turned again into another alleyway, and seemed to slow his pace. Before I could wonder why, a figure leapt down from the darkness above and tackled me into the mud. The air fled my lungs in a sudden, painful rush. The fresh sludge held me tightly to the ground, and he kicked me hard in the stomach. Tightening my grip on the sword, I swung it low across the ground, knowing I grazed the man's shins when he cried out in surprise. It bought me enough time to stand, and then my head was suddenly swimming in flashes of black and white. I was aware of warm blood streaming down my face, a fierce throb echoing off the inside of my skull. _

_ The man had no weapons, I realized, or I'd be dead by now. Holding the short sword between the two of us, I swayed for a moment. He chuckled, then pounced, and the night sky became darker as his figure filled my vision. Another fist punched into my ribs, just below my left breast. I couldn't breathe or think, my head still swimming from the first blow. Yet at this proximity, I found the resolve to slash my blade along the side of his thigh, driving it deeper towards the bone until he fell away and I could see the stars again._

_ Gasping for air, I turned and ran again. I had gone only several steps when I collided with a solid, broad chest. A low growl escaped me and I pushed past, too angry and determined to be stopped again. _

_ He was waiting for me on the other side of the bridge. The man had finally stopped at a crossroad intersection and was facing me, kodachi drawn. Never slowing, I tore across the bridge until he was within reach. Finally, I swung my sword against him._

_ He was nearly twice my size and a proficient swordsman, and though I danced around him with enough skill to evade most attacks, I could still feel when the tip of the kodachi grazed my skin, sliced through my kimono. Somewhere in the deep recesses of my history, I could hear my older brother chiding me as I made mistakes, praising me when I landed an attack. _

_ Our blades clashed, ringing throughout the district like bells. Skirts of blood sprayed around me, and I knew most of it was mine, draining my strength fast. My brother's voice kept arising in my head. The farm we used to live on was suddenly as clear as day and I could smell the hay and grains wafting on a summer breeze._

So this is how I die_ , I thought . _Fighting in one world, but living in another.

_ Yet within me, I could feel my final reserves surfacing. A new tenacity moved my blade for me, enhanced my vision, drew me closer to my target's weaknesses. Suddenly, I was no longer fighting for my pride or belongings, but for my life. _

_ And then it stopped._

_ The tip of my short sword was pressing against the man's throat, his skin collapsing under its point. But as I stared at this, at my imminent victory, I realized I was feeling what I was seeing._

_ A sharp tip gently held against the front of my neck. I swallowed, feeling the skin of my throat bulge against that cold point of steel. _

_ "Enough."_

_ Slowly, I turned my head and looked down the length of the blade. At its hilt was a Shinsengumi uniform. _

_ "Drop your blades."_

_ There was no room for argument. I dropped mine first, wincing as it clattered to the ground, loud enough to wake all of Kyoto, it seemed. He said something more, but I couldn't exactly hear over the pounding blood that was still pouring from my eyebrow. My lungs also barked in pain, suddenly reviving their bruises now that my adrenaline was fading. _

_ My opponent said something in return, words were exchanged, and then he left, grumbling, with his group of thugs. The katana stayed at my throat the entire time, until Saitou saw fit to lower it. Silently, he walked over to my kodachi laying in front of me and picked it up. His amber eyes examined it briefly._

_ "A fine sword to be sure, but it's not worth your life." _

_ One last spark of fury ignited in the part of me that was still conscious. And how would you know what is worth my life? I wanted to say. Instead, my knees suddenly gave way and I fell under the weight of my own skull. To my surprise, Saitou caught me. His hands brushed over the cut on my eyebrow and then quickly scanned the rest of my bloodied injuries. I heard him snort._

_ "Scrapes and bruises that'll leave some good scars, but nothing more. If anything, you're just weak from malnourishment." _

_ His words were only enhanced by the sensation of my spine poking against his arms. I squirmed to free myself, until he gently lowered me to the cobblestone pavement and watched as I sat in dazed silence._

_ "Just give me a moment," I murmured. Noticing the splotches of red I left on his uniform, my hand went to my head, warm and slick with blood. _

_ "Of course Okita couldn't pick a normal, acquiescent woman," he murmured under his breath. _

_ I looked up and around. "Is he here?"_

_ "No. He returned to Mibu."_

_ "Then why are you still here? Shouldn't you be with him?" _

_ He didn't answer right away, abandoning words for that amber gaze that seemed to be looking for something in my face. I looked away, my eye catching the glint coming off my kodachi a few feet away._

_ "What were you thinking?" _

_ In truth, I wasn't at the time, but I couldn't tell that to Saitou. _

_ "My brother gave it to me," I said softly, recalling the memories that had surfaced during my battle. "As a kind of parting gift."_

_ Saitou seemed unimpressed. "And this justifies you incurring the wrath of Shimabara's shadiest criminals and bloodying yourself for it?" _

_ "It's the one thing I own in this world. It gives me a chance…a hope."_

_ "Really? It almost killed you tonight."_

_ His mocking sarcasm burned. Without pause, I suddenly turned on him, my tongue sharp. _

_ "What do you fight for? Not the Shinsengumi, but you."_

_ He eyed me suspiciously. "Justice. To eradicate evil from this world."_

_ "Can I not do the same? Why can't I be allowed to defend myself against the evils in my world? My brother thought my life was worth preserving, even when he could not protect me himself. So long as I have the kodachi he gave me, I can. I can fight to live and breathe. Without it, I have not the smallest hope of living while at the mercy of others. At the mercy of men like them."_

_ He understood now. I could see it in his face. He closed his eyes for a moment._

_ "I see," was all he said. Gently, he reached out and pulled my hand away from the wound above my eye. "It's not bleeding anymore."_

_ Realizing I must've looked horrid caked in mud and blood, I cupped a handful of water from a nearby puddle and washed my face, hoping it helped a little. There was nothing I could do for the kimono. _

_ Sharp pains bolted through my body as I stood, but I ignored them, conscious of Saitou's concerned vigilance. Standing beside him, I suddenly realized he was the broad chest I had collided into; there was a perfect imprint of blood on his uniform that matched the height of my forehead. _

_ "Thank you, captain Saitou. I'm in your debt."_

_ He ignored my comment and bent down to retrieve my kodachi. Handing me the hilt, he wore a ghost of grins on his lips._

_ "I know I'll regret this someday," he said. _

_ I frowned at his words, but took the sword and swiftly tucked it beneath my kimono, back into its sheath. _

_ "As to why I remain in Shimabara…"_

_ Reaching inside his robes, he pulled out something small and handed it to me. It was my hairpin, a miniature plum blossom painted in blues and greens. _

_ "It may be a while before Okita sees you again, so he asked me to return this to you."_

_ Okita. He must have taken it when he threw me in the river; a small trinket for him to play hide and seek with. _

_ "Thank you." _

_ "Take care of yourself, Tokio," he said, turning away. "If I find you dead in the streets someday after a speech like the one you gave, there'll be hell to pay in the afterlife."_

_ I chuckled at his grim sense of humor, but found an odd sort of comfort in knowing that he understood my cause. He disappeared into the shadows of the streets, and I turned and left in the opposite direction, back towards the brothel._

_ The walk back was quiet, if painful. Every footstep vibrated through my feet, slapped into my bruises, and echoed up in my head. As I walked, I sensed a presence nearby, shadowing my footsteps at a careful distance. Yet I did not grab for my kodachi, nor did I hurry my pace. Squeezing the hairpin in my palm, I grinned, knowing that in the darkness, a pair of amber eyes was looking after me._

_

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_**A/N: I've always liked this chapter ^_^**


	8. Burned

_**December, 1866. **_

_ I couldn't breathe._

_ I woke from my dazed stupor, and the world revived itself in a fiery blaze of pain and heat. My eyes stung when I opened them, and the tears they leaked burned like acid. Coughing and spitting, I rolled out of my futon and crawled around on all fours, bewildered as to why it felt like smoldering sparks were igniting inside my chest. I blindly reached the doorway, coughing so hard I was gagging, and a blaze of fire roared in front of my face, flashing the world in a terrible crimson light. _

_ I actually don't remember much about the fire, except that it seemed hell had unleashed itself upon me. Each breath was toxic, scorching my throat with cinders and ashes, my lungs screaming as they starved for air. The flames licked the sweat off my body as fast as I produced it, and everything I touched singed my palms with electrifying pain. _

_ Someone was screaming. No. It was not a scream. There was nothing to describe it. Someone had taken their last breath, and was now using it to send their anguished death cry to the heavens as their body endured a pain their soul couldn't stand._

_ I coughed again and spit, disgusted by the black sludge that came from my mouth. Somehow I managed to drag myself along the floor to the stairwell. The heat was burning holes through my kimono, into my skin. A brief image flashed across my mind of what my corpse would look like; black and charred, with raw, smoking windows incinerated through my body. _

_ Halfway down the stairs, someone trampled over me, ignoring my shout for help in their panic. They disappeared into the smoke. Behind me, the inferno was growing larger, roaring like some rabid beast. I surrendered to another attack of convulsions, each cough now racking me with enough force my head was on the verge of splitting open. A huge chunk of ceiling crashed only feet away from where I was curled in a ball, content to let the world collapse around me. Flaming boards cracked and moaned, a terrifying chorus of burning ruin. So this is hell, I thought, my mind growing hazy as it suffocated to death. _

_ Okita. _

_ His face was suddenly so vivid. My stinging, bleary eyes were swollen shut, yet I could see his gracious smile as he joked with me. His deep, grey eyes were so piercing, yet so gentle, as ready to seek out an enemy as they were to laugh until he cried. I almost smiled, glad I got to see my beautiful samurai friend one last time._

_ "Tokio?"_

_ I wanted to yell at them to stop shaking me; they were making my stomach spin out of control. _

_ "I think she's coming around."_

_ "Look, her eyes are opening."_

_ At first, the world simply went from black to gray. Slowly, painfully, I recognized a sea of little pebbles and the feel of cool, gritty earth on my cheek. Despite the raging pounding in my head and the dry taste of ash in my throat that made me want to vomit, lying still on the cold, dirt road felt like heaven. _

_ "Tokio?" _

_ I looked over at the woman once-the only form of communication I'd risk at the moment-then lay still again. It took a moment for me to recall her name...Misaki. She lived in the room across the hall from me. Or used to, at least. The other woman's voice was familiar, too, although hoarse with smoke. _

_ "Oh, she's alive." _

_ "G-good. Now what do we do?" _

_ "I...I don't know."_

_ I swerved in and out of consciousness until I started shaking with cold. Moments later, I started to sit up, finding it easier if I kept my eyes shut against the world. Someone grabbed my forearm and yanked me to my feet in a hurry. It took everything I had to keep from screaming or retching all over. This was beyond pain, I realized. This was an eternal state of death._

_ "Come on, Tokio," Misaki said, trying to pull me away somewhere. "We need to l-leave here. We'll f-freeze to death." _

_ I finally opened my eyes and gasped a lungful of fresh, bitterly cold air. The sky above was pitch black, speckled with thousands of sparkling stars. The street was empty, save for the three of us, but I doubted how long that would last. Looking at the smoldering ruins of the brothel, I shuddered. There was nothing, literally nothing left but a pile of ashes. Even the trees that grew around the whore house had been ravaged to spindly black branches. A few embers still breathed here and there, but the demon blaze had vanquished into a column of smoke trailing up into the clear sky. _

_ An overwhelming sense of awe took me. I had no memory of escaping, yet I was alive. For the thousandth time in my life, I was damaged, burned, and lost, but I was alive._

_

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_**A/N: Argh, I hate the way this chapter turned out. It's just so...bleh, I dunno. If it wasn't such a crucial part of the story, I wouldn't have bothered posting it. I sense a total re-write some day. My apologies to all those who read . **


	9. A Family of Thieves

**June, 1867. **

I slipped my hand into the older man's pocket, grabbed his wallet and walked away.

With my stolen treasure tucked away in the sleeve of my kimono, I swiftly retreated from the main road and darted back into one of the many alleyways. They were still waiting in the shadows where I had left them, clustered together like a flock of vultures.

Kiyoshi's raucous voice called out first. "Hey, there's our Sekushi Kozō."

I used to wince at my colorful nickname at first, but over time it became a term of endearment. If such a thing existed amongst thieves and bandits.

I gave Kiyoshi a meaningful look and tossed the sack of money to the group leader, Tamotsu. He was leader by physical default, with arms the size of canons and a neck as thick as my waist. I watched as he fondled the little sack and smirked, obviously pleased.

"You're good, Sekushi. We'll have you stealing from the shogunate pretty soon."

I almost grinned, having heard those words before in a slightly different context.

"If only we can get her to drop her damn principles," Kiyoshi growled, elbowing me hard in the ribs. "Not stealing from women or the elderly. What a joke!"

"Well then it's a good thing the shogunate is neither," another man, Taisuke, said and spit to prove his point.

The six men around me continued to vent their frustrations on the political world. I listened half-heartedly. Like everyone in this war, they weren't exactly friends, but allies. I fought alongside them, lived with them, but was still wary of turning my back on them. They were, after all, thieves, and accustomed to taking what they wanted. Life as a bandit was barbaric, uncertain, and more often than nought, reeked of bodies that hadn't bathed in months. According to the rest of the world, it wasn't much better than prostitution, but I gladly lived it. There were times I even enjoyed it.

"...dress her up as a geisha doll with a slit in her kimono all the way up to here."

I was yanked back to the conversation by the feeling of someone trailing their hand up my thigh. I slapped Taisuke's hand away.

"Fuck off, Taisuke."

The men laughed and I allowed myself a small smile. Playful banter was an indulgence I could never afford in the brothels.

I noticed Tamotsu was tapping the hilt of his sword, a scowl deepening on his face. Glancing in the direction of his gaze, I saw a small group of villagers huddled some ways down the alley. Most of them were farmers and merchants that were making no effort to hide their glares. My hand instinctively went to the small knife tucked in my hakama and for a brief moment, I missed my kodachi. I could feel the men around me tense, each of them posing in the most threatening stance they could conjure. I'm sure we looked formidable—like a wolf with its fur raised and teeth bared.

Eventually the townspeople skulked away, leaving us alone in the dark alleyway once again.

"Maybe we've harassed this town long enough," I muttered, not really sure if I wanted to be heard.

Kiyoshi snorted. "Of course you would say that. Women have the softest hearts. They always give in so easily."

I swiftly flashed out my blade and cut across his arm, just enough to slice through his sleeve and draw a thin line of blood. Suddenly tired and irritated, I ignored his vivid curse and walked away.

"Sekushi." I stopped, unable to say no to Tamotsu's powerful voice. "We leave tonight."

The others stared at their leader in surprise.

"But, Tamotsu—"

"This town is small and we've done more than our fair share of plundering it. It's best we leave before the villagers decide to revolt."

"Then where are we headed?"

A grin cracked his face. "Back into deeper waters. Same routine as usual."

I nodded and turned away again.

_Back to Kyoto._

_

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_**A/N: So! For those of you who might be confused, this is now back in present day in the story (1867). Everything you have read thus far was in italics and was therefore a recount of Tokio's past. From here and out, things are all in current time. Also, some sidenotes: **

**Sekushi = Japanese word for "sexy" **

**Kozo = a nickname given to theives or pickpockets **

**Hence, Tokio's nickname: Sekushi Kozo.**

**Feel free to correct me on any of this, however. I just kinda pasted it together with my little bits of useless knowledge. **


	10. Dark Blood

Night had become my favorite time of day.

Perched on the edge of a rooftop, I looked out over the sleeping town bathed in moonlight. It was deceivingly peaceful. Off, not too far in the distance, I knew bloodshed and war burned the land. I cared little for the ongoing struggle of power between shogun and emperor, but sometimes, when I was savoring a quiet moment to myself, I thought of the Shinsengumi. I thought of Okita.

He probably thought me dead. And it was probably better that way. I know he hated to see me locked up as a prostitute, but at least that was legal. If he encountered me as a criminal, it was his duty to execute justice and he would have no choice but to condemn me.

The warm summer breeze kissed my face and I closed my eyes against it. In the darkness of my closed eyelids, his face was perfectly preserved. Kind grey eyes, a pointed nose, the Shinsengumi headband beneath his black bangs. I had it so well memorized I could've painted a portrait without ever looking at the canvas.

As I was daydreaming about where he could be at this very moment, the roof shingles behind me clinked. Without looking, I knew it was Taisuke. It was a miracle the man had survived this long as a bandit; he was as graceful as an ox.

"Well, well, look at you. A fully fledged thief. I have to admit, even though I prefer my women in kimonos, that outfit does suit you."

I grinned tiredly. "Thanks, Taisuke."

My attire was nothing more than a black kimono and black hakama to match. The only weapons I carried were two small knives belted to my waist. There was a worn pair of sandals on my feet and one leather vambrace encircled around my forearm. On my other arm, I liked to keep a piece of black cloth tied in a knot around my wrist. I used it for everything; as a mask, as rope, and at times, as a tourniquet.

Taisuke threw a coin up into the air with a metallic _ping _before catching it back in his hand again.

"You know, Kiyoshi's going to make you pay for that scratch you gave him."

"So be it," I said, still perched like a gargoyle. "I'm no stranger to his retaliations."

_Ping. Ping._

"Why'd you do it then?" he asked.

" 'Cause he said something stupid. He irritates me. I wanted him to shut up. Pick one."

Taisuke chuckled. "You've got a lot of spirit, Sekushi. I bet you made one hell of a courtesan." I rolled my eyes and stood. "And I mean that in the best way possible."

"Sure."

I snatched his coin out of the air and he slyly grinned. He was in his late thirties and like many samurai, had his head shaved except for the topknot bundled atop his skull. As his plump figure suggested, his favorite thing to steal was food and sake. Or money to buy them. I used to think he was the harmless one out of all the thieves I had befriended, until I watched him slit a throat for a few yen.

"I'll wager all my coin that I can get there before you."

He raised an eyebrow. "There's no way your skinny ass could outrun mine for that long of a distance. You're made of straw."

I smiled. "Purse for purse, then?"

"Deal."

I tossed his coin back to him, the unofficial cue, and we both bolted across the rooftops.

Running in the night air was intoxicating and each lungful of summer wind fueled my every step. I sprinted across the shingles, unable to prevent the smile stretching across my face. For nine years I had been locked in a caged world, confined to the seams of an unforgiving kimono and breathing the stench of the underworld. Now, to run freely and feel the wind whistling past and know that my world was boundless...it was something I would never surrender again for as long as I lived.

Taisuke leapt to the ground and dashed out across the moonlit fields, towards the forest that bordered the small town. After I jumped a gap between two rooftops, I slowed my pace and crept along until I spotted the paddock.

Looking down into the muddy little corral, I saw two pigs curled against the fence and several goats pacing the perimeter. My true quarry was hidden from view.

I nimbly lowered myself to the ground, praying the animals would keep quiet as I worked. The large, black horse was backed into the corner of the pen, still saddled from the ride earlier today when I had first spotted him. Unlike the other livestock, he looked healthy and strong.

Without thinking, I swiftly climbed up onto his back and held fast as the stallion danced to the side and nickered. It took a moment of nervous prancing before he responded to the calm tones of my voice. Once in control, I jumped him across the fence and tore off across the fields, the thundering of his hooves echoing my pounding heart. With the stars streaming overhead and the grasses hissing at our feet, it was hard not to shout for joy. For being alive.

Up ahead I could see Taisuke's stout figure leaving a trail in the grass behind him. Lying low on the stallion's neck, I galloped hard and laughed as we flashed by. In the whirling dark I heard him swear.

A moment later and I slowed the horse to a walk, patting his broad neck and uttering praise for his performance. I could hear Taisuke panting in the distance. When he reappeared, the moon was making the sweat on his neck glitter. His face was scrunched in pain and annoyance, which did nothing to help the smile growing on my face.

I reached down to him. "Hand it over."

"No fucking way," he huffed and proceeded to throw a handful of dirt at me.

The horse flinched. I only chuckled and gently steered away, into the dark forest where the moonlight did not reach. The thick grove of trees eventually opened up into a small forest meadow where several dark silhouettes had gathered. Beneath the silvery beam of moonlight illuminating the clearing, I picked out Tamotsu's hardened face.

"What's the meaning of this, Sekushi?" he growled upon seeing the stallion.

"A parting gift from the villagers," I said dryly, then frowned, realizing there were only three of us. "Where are the others?"

He shrugged, crossing his massive forearms in front of his chest. "Hell if I know. If they're not here soon, we're leaving their sorry asses behind."

I could tell he was annoyed. Every man was free to come and go as he pleases, but insubordination was something Tamotsu didn't tolerate well. And it was something Kiyoshi was very good at.

We waited in the forest meadow, surrounded by the chorus of crickets and owls and the occasional snort from the stallion. Deeper into the darkness, between the trunks of the trees, I could see faint yellow lights flitting in midair. Fireflies.

I caught the quick flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye; the stallion's ears perked forward, honed in on some unseen threat. There was rumbling laughter and the sound of heavy footsteps crunching their way through the forest. As I had expected, the three men staggered into the clearing, the scent of sake reeking from their very pores. Yet there was another stench lingering about them—a sweeter, sickly smell.

Blood.

The bright red stain on Kiyoshi's kimono glimmered eerily in the moonlight; it was still wet.

"Kiyoshi." Tamotsu's voice was so deep I barely heard it.

"Ah, don' worry. I brough' y'some, too." He handed the leader a half-empty mug of sake, stumbling slightly. In one swift move, Tamotsu grabbed the ceramic jar and slammed it into the side of Kiyoshi's head, sending the man to the ground with streams of blood oozing from his temple.

"Dammit, Kiyoshi! I've had it with you and your damn habits! Who was it this time?"

Kiyoshi rolled onto his back, one hand holding his bleeding eyebrow. "Just some ol' farmer…and his wife."

The ghost of a grin crossed his lips and I felt my blood curdle.

"One of these days your bloodlust will be the ruin of us all," Tamotsu growled. The moonlight did not touch his cold, dead eyes. "I should just put an end to you and be done with it."

"You should."

It was eerie how calm his voice was, how he simply looked up at Tamotsu, almost daring him to do it. Several long minutes passed, until he finally stepped around the fallen man, his face an unreadable mask of stone, and began walking into the forest.

"The next time you do something like this, at least have the decency to wash your hands."

I looked over at Kiyoshi, wondering how I could've missed the shimmering red color of his hands. The other men followed silently, leaving he and I alone in the meadow for a brief moment. As he started to stand, Kiyoshi glanced up at me and grinned crookedly from behind the rivers of blood on his face.

With a harsh jerk of the reins, I turned away and rode after the others, into the black night. Away from one darkness and into another.

* * *

**A/N: I know, I know. We'll get back to the Shinsengumi in a few chapters here. Bear with me! **


	11. To Suffice

"…about time Satsuma got its act together. Bunch of cowards waiting in the wings to see when the balance will tip in their favor."

"You know the shogunate has no way out of this. Not with Choshu and Satsuma in alliance with each other. All it would take is one swift crush—"

"I don't know, Taisuke. They've been rivals for decades—you honestly want them to preside over this new era? You want them in charge? One petty squabble and the entire country would be back in civil war again."

"It doesn't matter what I want to happen—the truth is, the imperialists have all but won. Even if Yoshinobu retaliates, he hasn't the means to defeat the modern armies of Satsuma and Choshu. His days are numbered."

I sighed, examined the apple I'd been rolling around in my hand, and finally bit into it. We were still nearly a day's trip outside of Kyoto but Tamotsu seemed to be in no rush to return to the city, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was hesitant to delve back into the chaos of the revolution. Sitting beneath the shade of the giant maple tree, bellies filled with sake and warm sunlight dappled across our faces, it was hard to find any incentive to seek out the war-torn streets of Kyoto.

The fresh snap of the fruit caught the attention of the grazing stallion. He slowly walked over to me with his head low, nostrils flaring as he tried to pick up the scent of the red orb in my hand. I took another bite and defiantly pushed his broad head away when he got too close.

"…damned Shinsengumi. Bunch of dogs that do whatever their master tells them to." Kiyoshi spit into his empty sake pot. "To think the bastards pride themselves on being the 'protectors of Kyoto.' Funny how they use such a title to disguise how much blood is really on their hands."

Curious, I peeked around the tree trunk, making the mistake of forgetting about the half-eaten apple in my hand. Within a second, the stallion shoved his nose into my lap, nipping a piece of my hand instead of the fruit. I bit back a fierce oath and shoved him away again.

"Yeah, yeah, we get it," Tamotsu said. "You're still mad about you're little skirmish."

A couple of the other men chuckled and Kiyoshi turned an interesting shade of pink.

"I don't like men who can't think for themselves. They're a bunch of pigheaded samurai who can't react to the world around them. Let's see if their precious pride and ideals will save their heads from the spikes when this is all over."

Tamotsu must've seen the confusion on my face. "Kiyoshi got mixed up in a brawl a few years ago with one of the commanders."

"I would've settled the score, but the other commanders had him commit seppuku before I had a chance."

I closed my eyes against the sunlight and smiled. "You should be grateful they did. From what I hear the wolves of Mibu are not known for their mercy. You must've been very lucky."

"You—wait, how would you know about the Shinsengumi?"

I wanted to laugh at their bemused expressions. Grunting, I grabbed the stallion by the nose and shoved him away, tossing him the core of my apple as truce. "It's really no big deal. Their reputation precedes them anywhere." Knowing they wouldn't be satisfied with that answer, I casually added, "And some of the men use to frequent the brothel."

I rolled my eyes at the chuckles and sniggers coming from the other side of the tree.

"I'm sure they did."

"Well do tell, Sekushi. You can't leave us hanging there."

I shook my head and absentmindedly plucked a few strings of grass. "It's not the kind of story you're looking for. But the men…they did always seem somewhat…noble, I guess."

Kiyoshi spit. "Noble? You think carrying out orders to take your own life is noble?"

I frowned at him. "He's a samurai."

"It doesn't matter. Anyone that values their so-called 'honor' before their own life is an idiot."

"To you and me, Kiyoshi, it would seem that way because we'll never know what it is to have honor or pride. At least in that regard, we all sold ourselves a long time ago."

"And I'd say we're doing just fine, wouldn't you?" The man stood, teetering a little. "No principles or beliefs to hold us back and hey! We're alive! We're surviving!"

He left the rest of us beneath the tree, stumbling and muttering to himself until he disappeared beneath the hill and faded out of earshot.

"Well, some of us are," I murmured quietly to myself. If I hadn't been convinced before that Kiyoshi was a madman, I certainly was now and I didn't know whether to pity or fear him.

"From the way you were talking about them," Taisuke said, grinning at me, "I'd say you admire them quite a bit. Sure there isn't a story you want to tell us?"

While the men joked and speculated about how many Shinsengumi officers I had bedded, I stared at my hands in my lap. Did I admire them? Was I envious of the idea of having something to live and fight for? Did I covet that legendary samurai pride, knowing that I would never be anything more than a criminal outcast, never deserving of such a thing as honor? Was it this I admired, or was it something—someone—else?

"Okita." I let his name fall from my lips, too soft for the others to hear.

"Hey, Sekushi." Tamotsu tossed me his jar of sake. "Lighten up, will ya? That face of yours is too pretty to be sad."

"Thanks, Tamotsu."

With a faint smile on my lips, I drank the last few drops of sake from the jug, staring up into the sunlight filtering through the tree leaves. Perhaps Kiyoshi was right. Perhaps I would never know honor or pride or ideals, but I had my life and my freedom. And for the time being, that would just have to suffice.

* * *

**A/N: Well, there's a philosophical chapter for ya. **


	12. Demons Within

The night was warm and still, allowing the chorus of crickets to echo quite a ways from the riverbank. Every now and then I could see fireflies illuminating the dark spaces between the trees like miniature suns flitting about a tiny universe. The gentle, rhythmic plodding of the stallion's hooves threatened to lull me to sleep, even as I sat upright in the saddle.

I breathed deeply, savoring the fresh summer air in my lungs. Kyoto had a distinct smell to it, though I couldn't quite pinpoint it; something that was a mix of earthy grass and smoked eel and burning wood.

Up ahead, I could just make out the faint outline of Kiyoshi and a few other men walking in their own pack. Taisuke and his group were some distance behind us, while Tamotsu stayed beside the stallion's head, leading it with a firm hand on the bridle. It was a formation we often used on the highways and desolate country roads. This way, if one party was attacked, we were dispersed enough to come to each other's aid.

Tamotsu clapped his hand against the stallion's broad, black neck. "Have you named this thing yet?"

The truth was I hadn't, but at that moment a single word came to mind.

"Sumi."

He gave a soft chuckle. "Sumi, huh? Not bad. Suits him. Just don't go gettin' too attached. It's just an animal. Chances are good that we'll end up barbequing him if we need to."

Even though he was telling the truth, I rolled my eyes.

"Is that a lack of faith in me as a pickpocket?" I asked.

"I'm just saying."

We walked a little ways more in silence, winding along the dirt paths that bordered the river. Just as Sumi's sauntering gait began to rock me to sleep again, I heard Kiyoshi's raucous laugh from up ahead. Even in the dark of night, Tamotsu must have sensed the stiff tension rolling off my shoulders.

"What's with you and Kiyoshi?" he said, looking back at me over his shoulder. "Whenever he's around you look nervous. Did he do something?" I shook my head. "You don't like him?"

"I don't trust him."

"I hate to break it to you, but you really shouldn't be trusting any of us."

"Yes, but Kiyoshi's different. That other night in the forest…he seemed so feral."

"So you've finally seen who he really is. Took you long enough."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"It's not like he started killing people yesterday. He's always had this much blood on his hands. It's just funny that it's taken you almost a year to realize it."

"It's not funny. The man's insane. He butchers people for sport. Why do you let him?"

"It's not my place to tell another man how to live. If that is the path he chooses, then so be it. I'm not about to come to the aid of a man that can't be saved anyway."

My hands tightened on the reins; a painful reminder that my trustworthy kodachi had been replaced by mere leather cords.

"You could've killed him."

Tamotsu didn't say anything for a long time. "You've never killed anyone, have you Tokio?"

I started at the sound of my name, having almost forgotten what it sounded like in someone else's voice.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Because if you had, then you wouldn't have suggested such a thing."

I stayed quiet, suddenly feeling very naive. No, I have never killed anyone, but I knew that I could. I'd been pushed to that edge, visited that brink of madness before. How could actually stabbing a man through the heart be any different than being ready to do so at any given moment?

A small circle of men quietly passed by us, each of them holding a lantern that spilled golden light onto their grave faces. When they had faded away into darkness, I spoke again,

"It's not the act of taking another life that makes you inhuman," I said, realizing a truth I'd been abiding by for some time now. "It's the demons that enable you to do so. And I've been living with those for many years now."

"Is that so? Then why haven't you done it? Why haven't you killed him?"

"Would you allow me to?"

Tamotsu glanced back at me, looking somewhat stunned. There was a menacing frown creasing his face. "You wouldn't."

"If he can't be saved, then what does it matter? Better to spare him his suffering and save others from his madness."

The man snorted. "You're something else, Tokio. Not seeing is a flower."

I frowned, but didn't have time to ask him what he meant. Up ahead, somewhat shouted. Next came that electrifying clash of metal—a sound that bolted through my veins like lightning. Hearing the scream of swords sliding along one another, I tightened my grip on the reins.

"Shit!"

Tamotsu drew his sword as I wheeled Sumi around, looking for the group that was behind us. A small cluster of lanterns scattered about like panicked fireflies, bobbing randomly in the distant dark. Several shrill cries pierced the air; so high-pitched they were no longer human.

"Tamotsu! Tamotsu!"

A smaller silhouette ran up to us, panting hard, short sword gleaming. It took me a moment to recognize Taisuke—there was so much blood spattered on his face.

"Where's Kiyoshi and the others?" Tamotsu demanded. Another series of battle cries pierced the air, making the stallion beneath me prance nervously. Looking behind, I noticed most of the warm glow of the lanterns had been replaced with swords glinting coldly in the moonlight.

"They took off! It's the damned—!"

The stallion squealed; the only warning I had before a rough, fast pair of hands grabbed at my hakama and wrenched me from the saddle.

"Shit, Tokio!"

I thudded to the ground and rolled, just in time to hear the blade pierce the dirt where my head had been only a second ago. The adrenaline pounding through my blood suddenly made the night as clear as day, equipped me with lightning in my veins. I scrambled to my feet and ran, hissing when I felt the tip of the sword graze the length of my back.

I should never have looked back.

As fate would have it, somewhere in the chaos of darkness and the silvery glow of the moon, a flash of color caught my eye and I looked back over my shoulder, prepared to challenge my imminent death with every gruesome demon I had raging inside of me. Knife in hand, I wheeled around to face my attacker, but there was nothing I could do. I skidded to a halt, every bone in my body freezing to ice, my panicked heart shattering at the sight of the unmistakable white and turquoise uniform in front of me.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Sumi = the black ink used in Japanese calligraphy. I thought it was quite fitting ^_^**

**"Not seeing is a flower" = It's a bit of a rough translation, but it's a saying that means: things will never be as you imagine, so you're better off not seeing them. **

**Hope you like so far! =D **


	13. A Promise of Death

It wasn't until someone slammed me into the trunk of a tree that I realized I'd been staring dazedly at the Shinsengumi soldier, powerless to do much else. I blinked, bringing Tamotsu's face into focus.

"Run, Tokio! Just get out of here and run!"

"No! He—wait!"

I pushed past him and hurled myself into Kiyoshi, shoving him away from his foe. With a furious roar, Kiyoshi tossed me to the ground and swiped his sword along my shin for good measure. More stunned than hurt, I stayed on the ground and watched the two men before me. Kiyoshi fought ruthlessly, screaming like a wild animal as he slashed and charged his opponent. But for all his savage strength, even I could tell he was losing this battle; his lips were bloody from biting down on them so hard.

The samurai, however, flowed effortlessly around the thief, white headbands trailing in the wind as he fought. Unlike Kiyoshi, his conduct was nothing short of beautiful—like a practiced dance, each attack and parry was a gliding movement, streaming from one stance into the other. His katana almost seemed alive; as if his hands were breathing fire into the blade and making it an extension of the very spirit that he battled with.

But it was not Okita.

This face was too young, his back too long and his head was shaven with the customary topknot on the crown of his skull. Somewhat relieved, I stood and reached for the other knife at my waist.

"No, wait! Tamotsu, don't! Tamotsu!"

The monstrous silhouette barreled into the fray, tipping the odds into Kiyoshi's favor. The Shinsengumi soldier was forced back farther and farther as the thieves cornered him onto the riverbank.

_No._

I hadn't a clue what I was going to do once I reached them, but I started to run down the embankment when someone grabbed my sleeve, making me jump.

"Tokio!"

I wheeled on Taisuke, knife glaring in my hand like an overgrown tooth. "Let me go, Taisuke!"

"We have to run! More are coming!"

More? My insides started doing acrobatics again. _Dear spirits, please don't let Okita be with them. Don't let him cross paths with Kiyoshi. _

Ignoring Taisuke, I tried to wrench free of his iron grip and failed.

"What are you doing, Tokio?" He yelled so hard his breath blew back the hair from my face. "They're Shinsengumi! They'll kill you!"

"We have to get the others!" I lied, still trying to bolt for the embankment. Someone screamed and my blood chilled in its wake.

"Dammit, Tokio, I—!"

There was a deep _crunch, _followed by a gurgled croak and something warm sprayed onto my cheek. Looking back, I recoiled at the sight of a sword tip protruding from Taisuke's open mouth. His eyes glazed into a sickly gray and a final, stinking breath wheezed out of his lungs, leaving behind the impaled corpse. Stifling the nausea bubbling up from my gut, I turned and fled into the recesses of the city, abandoning the riverside battle for the safe maze of alleyways. Once hidden, I flattened myself against a wall and sank to my knees, content to sit numbly in the dark and let the splattered blood dry onto my cheek.

* * *

Not long after I'd fled the battle scene, I found myself wandering back in a kind of daze. Whether it was curiosity or guilt or some foolish hope that I'd find Okita there, I couldn't say, but the utter quiet that had befallen the riverbank was eerie. Walking down the path, I spotted small blotches of dark stains in the dirt; the only sign that a small war had taken place here just a short while ago. With a small grin, I couldn't help but think of how close I had come to crossing paths with Okita. And if we had…

_They're Shinsengumi! They'll kill you!_

…would he have?

A slight movement caught my eye. Looking down into the embankment, I saw him lying there, an almost-lifeless heap twitching as he endured the last of his death throes.

Somewhere along the line my feet carried me from the path, down the embankment and I fell to the fallen samurai's side, gently brushing my fingertips past his to let him know I was there—from the empty grey in his eyes, it was clear his vision had already left him. I jumped when he convulsed and grabbed at my sleeve. Mumbled, frantic words gurgled past his bloody lips and I noticed he was clawing for his katana lying some feet away. Even as I reached for the sword, I never considered that he would use it against me. Not now. Not with his last few breaths; those, I knew, were reserved for something else.

He thrust his wakizashi into my hand and I placed the hilt of the sword in his trembling palm, helping him direct it towards his lower abdomen. The rest of it seemed to happen very quickly.

His breath grew fast and short and the rivers of blood around his mouth dribbled down onto his white uniform, leaking across his chest like a painting of tree branches. With one strong slice he cut open his stomach, letting loose a pocket of warm air that made me nauseous. Not a second later he jerked his hand towards my arm, signaling me to deliver the final act of seppuku. Before I could give myself time to think about it, I dragged the wakizashi across his neck and a fresh tide of blood surged from the wound, drenching my hands with the warm, thick liquid. His head fell back, his chest went still, and for the second time that night, I heard someone relinquish their last breath on this earth.

There was something strangely nightmarish about watching a Shinsengumi pass away beneath my hands. I started to reach up to close his unseeing eyes, then suddenly jerked my hand back to my side, unable to do it. Deep within, I knew it was because he wore the same white headband and wore the same turquoise ensemble with the same twin swords at his side. And I could not close those same grey eyes.

A tall, narrow shadow blocked out the moon overhead, immersing both the corpse and I in a blanket of darkness. I looked up and at the sight of an entire squad of Shinsengumi members, felt my breath turn to ice in my chest. Worst of all was the slender silhouette standing only feet from me, amber eyes burning coldly from within a face that looked as though it were carved from steel.

Hajime Saitou.

I saw him reach for his sword and I remembered the scene they stumbled upon; me crouched over a dead Shinsengumi member, covered in blood and a wakizashi in one hand.

Perfectly emotionless, he smoothly took his katana from its sheath, the moon reflecting off the blade and onto his face in a sliver of light. He took a step forward and I bolted like a hare startled from its hiding hole. Sprinting away from the wolf and the promise of death he represented, I disappeared back into the fading night and almost laughed insanely at the idea of escaping with my life.

Nowadays, I laugh at the idea of running from him at all.

* * *

**A/N: Gah! Now that I've got people that are actually expecting more (which I can't believe; you guys rule! ^_^), it makes me feel like I have deadlines! LOL**

**Eh, there's some things I really like about this chapter and some, not so much. It took me forever to come up with those last two paragraphs. I hope you like! =) **


	14. A Game of Ball

**A/N: Well crap, you guys! This wasn't supposed to be so popular! haha! My deepest apologies for making you wait forever for this chapter! I hope you enjoy it! **

* * *

**July, 1867. **

I hadn't been this content in a long time.

Sprawled across the slanted roof with my face to the midday sun, I nibbled slowly at the yakitori, convinced that food always tasted better if it was stolen. It made one appreciate it more.

Several weeks had passed since the battle with the Shinsengumi squad and I had yet to see any of my fellow thieves. Truth be told, I didn't know if they were even alive and with a pang of guilt, I realized I didn't really care. I wasn't exactly keen to run into them again, especially since I had more or less sent Taisuke to his grave.

Kyoto was more accommodating than I expected it to be. Living as a lone thief, there were so many people to hide in and after having spent the last year honing my pick pocket skills, swiping a purse or robbing a few onigiri from a food stand was almost too easy. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I had to realize that I owed my newfound independence—again—to Captain Saitou.

The image of those burning amber eyes seemed singed onto the inside of my eyelids, haunting me whenever I slept or shut them against the wind and sun. That night when I ran from him, he could've easily had his men pursue me or chase me down himself; the man had legs that were almost as long as I was tall. But he didn't. No one had given pursuit and for some ungodly reason unknown to me, he had actually _allowed_ me to escape.

_If I find you dead in the streets someday after a speech like the one you gave, there'll be hell to pay in the afterlife._

Oh. Right. I had to upkeep my end of the bargain.

Finishing the last morsel of chicken, I tossed the wooden skewer away and stretched, letting the sun soak into my bones. The wind played in my hair, reminding me of the way my brother and I would sit out in the fields and talk and he would comb his fingers through my hair until it was as light as silk. But that was a lifetime ago.

I let out a heavy sigh and carefully slid down to the edge of the roof, cursing the hot tiles that were starting to scald my palms. Jumping quickly from the rooftop ledge, I landed hard on my feet and wandered back out on the street, melding into the giant schools of people and—for the first time in my life—feeling as though I belonged with them. As if I were one of them.

After aimlessly dawdling in and out of the many streets of Kyoto, I eventually came to a courtyard in front a small shrine. The pagoda itself fascinated me, just like all of them did. The intricate designs and scrollwork on the rooftops, the brilliant colors of ruby and gold, and the lone spire that reached for the heavens was always a beautiful sight, and yet, standing in its shadow, I wondered how people sought refuge in something as cold and lifeless as a building. It was after all, simply a pretty wooden tower. It burned just as easily as anything else, and then what would become of all the prayers and hopes within?

Somewhere behind me was the laughter of little voices as a group of children played ball. Looking around, I noticed a few temple workers scurrying to light the lanterns and a pair of geisha taking perfect, measured steps as they floated along to their destination. A flock of cranes glided overhead, casting their slender shadows on the stone paths of the courtyard as they departed for the setting sun.

Yes. I hadn't been this content in a long time.

So I didn't really mind when something thumped into the back of my head, making me jump in surprise.

"Oops, sorry!"

"Yeah, we're sorry!"

"Could you throw it back to us?"

I bent down to pick up the ball, and then froze when I heard another voice say,

"Please forgive us. If I were any good at this game, I should've been able to catch that."

I could hear it; that gentle smile in his voice. Turning very slowly, I tried to take a deep breath despite the fact that my lungs had turned into stones and my heart was pounding against my ribs so hard it hurt.

He was standing only feet away, dressed in a dark kimono and hakama that made his grey eyes look as soft and light as rain. His gaze searched my face for a moment and then he went very still. "Tokio?"

I couldn't decide whether I wanted to fall to my knees and weep or dance and shout for joy, but in the end I was too stunned to do anything but breathe his name,

"Okita."

"It is you," he whispered.

He closed the gap between us, since I seemed unable to move, and said nothing again for a long while. Not really thinking, I handed the ball out to him.

"Really, Okita, how do you expect to defend Kyoto if you can't even catch a—"

He grabbed my hand, almost painfully, and held it.

"I thought…I thought you…"

I had never seen Okita lost for words before. Those steel grey eyes glimmered, hinting at unshed tears and I realized what it must be like to see someone you thought to be dead.

"Come on, Souji!"

"Hey, Souji, throw us the ball!"

I could see the children behind him waving their hands impatiently, some of them starting to pick on each other as they waited. Okita grinned at me, took the ball and never said anything about the matter again, burying the would-be tears behind that tender smile. Just like he always did.

"Here it comes!" he shouted and tossed the ball back to the group of children.

One of the younger boys looked back at him. "Aren't you going to play with us, Souji?"

"Maybe later, Yoshi" Okita said. When the boy crossed his arms and frowned, Okita bent down, hands clapped over his knees and returned the expression, lower lip pouting. Both Yoshi and I couldn't help but giggle. "I promise," he assured him.

The boy ran back to join the game and Okita turned around to face me with an impish grin alighting his eyes.

"What?" I asked.

"You know what this means?" I shook my head. "It means I can see you whenever I want without having to pay!"

I missed laughing with him. His lighthearted, warm chuckle flooded through my veins as if it were my very own blood.

"Although," I said after we'd both gained a little more composure, "I'm not sure about seeing me whenever you want. Visiting a courtesan is one thing, but the Shinsengumi might frown upon you visiting with a thief." I held out my arms to either side. "I'm everything you stand against."

Okita tilted his head to the side, grinned and simply said,

"Well, we'll just have to fix that, won't we? Besides, that outfit you have on is rather…unbecoming."

"Likewise," I said. "I always preferred you in uniform, too."

He started to laugh again, but it quickly dissolved into thick, heavy coughing. Frowning, I placed a hand on his shoulder, surprised at how badly the coughing racked his petite frame.

"Okita?" He shook his head and forced himself to stand straight, swallowing back any pain. "Are you all right?"

He waved away my question. "Of course. I'm fine. It's just a stubborn cold." I started to protest—the deep, growling cough still echoing in the air around us—but he cut me off before I began. "Hey, come with me."

"Where are we going?"

"There's something I want to show you."

When I didn't move, he gently grabbed my wrist, giving me no choice but to follow him through Kyoto's network of streets. I couldn't help that notice when he did finally let go, his fingers lingered on the hem of my shirt.

"So then…a thief?"

"I didn't have much of a choice, Okita," I said, wincing at the defensive tone in my voice. "It's not like I had a husband or a family to return to."

"What about your brother? Couldn't you've tried to find him?"

"How?" I asked softly. "It's been so long…he could be anywhere in the country. For all I know, he could be dead." Okita looked sorry he'd mentioned anything, so I quickly changed the subject.

"As long as I escaped Shimabara, I was willing to do anything. So I did. I met up with a group of bandits who took me in and showed me how to live on my own; how to live with my freedom. If it weren't for them, I'm sure I wouldn't have lasted long. We all traveled together, from village to village, up until a few weeks ago…"

The words died on my tongue as a new thought struck me.

"Okita?"

"Hm?"

"You thought I was dead?"

His face darkened. "When I returned to Shimabara, I tried looking for you, but they said everyone perished in the fire." He laughed. "I'm so glad they were wrong."

Hearing his beautiful laughter, I smiled and grabbed his sleeve; it was just enough to subdue the urge to grab a hold of him and hug forever, like I wanted to. He looked down at me, a warm smile in his eyes, and I forgot to worry about why Saitou had kept my being in Kyoto a secret from him.

* * *

**A/N: Yay, Okita! I missed him! ^_^**

**You guys are so awesome. Thanks for reading! I will do my best to keep more chapters coming! **


	15. Had I Known

"Of course I'm still captain. Why do you ask?"

I shrugged. "Well, how was I supposed to tell when I find you dressed like this and playing ball with children? Some menacing wolf of Mibu you are."

He chuckled. "I suppose. I'm still with the first unit, but I've also been spending a lot of my time as instructor of the Tennen Rishin-ryū. Yoshi's a student of mine."

"The boy? But he's so young."

"He's about the same age I was when I picked up a sword. Maybe a little older."

Glancing up at Okita, I tried to imagine him as a young boy, clumsily wielding a katana that was almost as big as he, but that image didn't seem to fit. His hands—perfectly shaped for the hilt of a sword—had probably always grasped the blade with a familiarity like that of an old friend.

"So did these friends of yours teach you how to use those throwing knives?" he asked.

"To a point. Stealing and running were more of my specialty."

"Good. Then that'll make this easier."

Before I had time to react, he darted his hands to my waist and snatched away both blades, swiftly tucking them beneath his hakama.

"Okita, what are you—?"

"It's just for a little while. There's no way we could get you in if you had weapons on you."

The bustling crowds grew quieter and the huddled buildings grew thinner as we continued to walk. Eventually we left the narrow streets behind us and followed a single stone path towards a series of buildings surrounded by a thick, towering wall. Two men were standing rigidly on either side of the gate, each of them holding spears and dressed in turquoise uniforms.

I stopped dead in my tracks, in disbelief that he had brought me to Shinsengumi headquarters. When I started to back away, Okita looked over his shoulder at me.

"Tokio, you're fine. Just follow me."

For the first time in my life, I was leery of my friend. It only lasted a second, but the doubt, the suspicion was there. Perhaps it was because my freedom was at stake and I was paranoid of losing it again. Perhaps it was the idea of being brought into a bigger world that I didn't belong in. Regardless, I hesitated to take another step.

"Why are we here?" I asked.

It was the hurt in his eyes that assured me I was wrong to doubt him.

"I told you. There's something I want to show you."

"But Okita—"

"If anyone asks, you're a recruit for Yamazaki."

"For who?"

He took a gentle hold of my sleeve again and pulled me along, letting go only when we were within earshot of the sentries.

One of the men, perhaps a few years younger than myself, saluted Okita; a gesture I just couldn't take seriously, knowing him the way I did.

"Captain."

Okita smiled and held up a friendly hand. "Sutesuke. I didn't know they had you on duty today."

"Well, you know, things are a bit short-staffed around here lately. Everyone's pulling double-duty these days. Except you, it seems."

Okita chuckled, brushing the comment aside with that pleasant smile of his and I couldn't help but wonder if what Sutesuke said was true; if the Shinsengumi was undermanned, why was Okita playing with children?

"And this is a new post for you, isn't it, Tetsu?"

Glancing from behind Okita's shoulders, I felt my jaw drop at the sight of a young boy, who could hardly be fourteen, standing guard with a yari that was almost taller than he. His round head was shaven and his uniform looked too big for his tiny shoulders, but he wore it as proudly as any other Wolf of Mibu.

"Yes sir."

I blinked. The boy's voice hadn't even changed yet.

"Not too hard, is it?"

"No sir. But it does get hot standing out here."

While Okita continued to encourage the boy with small talk, I couldn't help but notice the other one, Sutesuke, warily watching me with suspicious, dark eyes. As I fidgeted beneath his gaze, I thought twice about kicking Okita's ankle, just to make sure he knew I was still here. In the end though, I kept still and quiet, some foolish part of me hoping that if I didn't move, he couldn't see me.

Turning back to Sutesuke, Okita's voice descended into a more formal tone.

"Is the commander inside?"

"The vice commander should be returning soon, but Mr. Yamanami is here."

"Oh? Where's commander Kondo gone to?"

Sutesuke shrugged. "Why does it matter?"

"Well, how does he expect us to hire recruits if he's not here to give his approval, I wonder?"

The soldier's eyes flicked back to me. "She's a recruit?"

The way he said it made me want to dig a hole in the dirt, crawl in it and die.

Okita walked past them with an enigmatic grin, motioned for me to follow and simply said,

"We'll see."

I kept close to Okita's side, rarely leaving the outline of his shadow as we walked through headquarters. I was surprised to see several beautiful gardens scattered throughout the premises, little emerald sanctuaries tucked away between the various barracks and training halls. The air was strangely quiet, save for the midday chorus of buzzing cicadas and distant shouts coming from what must've been trainees in the practice halls.

"You don't expect me to actually join, do you?" I asked, looking around at the well-groomed courtyards of sand and stone.

"Of course I do," Okita said simply, never looking back at me. "Though I don't expect you to fight. You'd be working under Susumu Yamazaki; he's the physician for the Shinsengumi."

"Okita, I can't. I don't know anything about medicine."

"You'll learn. Yamazaki's a very kind and patient man."

"Then if you already have him, why do you need a recruit? Why me?"

Okita chuckled and finally spared me a glance, one eyebrow raised. "I don't remember you being so finicky. Are you that nervous?"

The stone path took us past a training hall and I glimpsed inside the open shoji doors. Row upon row of samurai filled the room, each one swinging their bokken in perfect unison with the man next to him. Deep voices shouted together as one, emitting a wave of magnificent energy that made me want to cower in awe, even from outside.

"Yes."

His brief laughter, charming though it was, was harder to tolerate knowing it was at my expense. "Don't be. Think of it this way: compared to living on the streets, things can only get better."

He stopped outside of a room and slid open the shoji, motioning for me to go inside, those grey eyes sparkling like moonlight on a dark lake.

It wasn't until I stepped inside and felt the relief of cool shade that I realized how hot it was outside. The small room was hardly furnished at all; there was only a _kotatsu_ in the middle of the floor with a beautiful bonsai tree at its center. Drawn to the miniature tree, I marveled at each perfectly sculpted branch, amazed by the way the roots grew over and around a tiny little rock nestled in the moss bedding.

"It looks so…real."

"Because it is," Okita replied, trying not to laugh.

My cheeks burned. "I know that. It just looks…lost. Like it needs the rest of the forest around it."

"You should see it in the spring when it blooms. It puts out these fiery red blossoms all over."

"You grew this?"

He nodded, looking quite proud of himself. "To keep me busy when I'm not."

"Then why don't _you_ be Yamazaki's new apprentice if you have so much time to spare?"

"Would you rather I threw you back out on the streets?"

The confusion in his voice made me look away from the tree. He leaned back against the door, arms crossed in the sleeves of his kimono and frustration haunting the edges of his gaze.

"I'm only trying to help, Tokio," he said softly. "I just wanted something better for you. You know that. But if being here bothers you that much, I won't make you do this. I would never want you to be unhappy."

Whether as a thief or a prostitute, you learn to barricade your heart, or you risk losing it to the underworld. But at that moment, I could feel all of the chains and ropes and gates falling away from my heart, melting at the very sound of his voice.

"Why?" I whispered.

"What?"

My gaze fell on the tree again. "You've always been that way. Always wishing for my happiness or my freedom or my health. You've always treated me like I can do no wrong, when I've actually never done anything right. But I don't think I'll ever understand why." When I looked up at him, his grin was almost sad. "And you won't tell me, will you?"

He shook his head and that dismal grin disappeared, replaced by the happy-go-lucky one I knew so well. "Nope."

I sighed, having caught his contagious smile. "Well, you're as frustrating as ever."

I was completely unprepared for how quickly he crossed the room and threw his arms around me, crushing me tightly against his chest.

"You're beautiful."

I froze as the words left his lips and fell into my hair. Helpless against the oncoming tears, I turned my face into his chest and surrendered to another human being for the first time in my entire life. It was then I knew I loved him. Loved him for his surreal kindness, for his childlike smile, for the way he could make me fall into pieces, then rebuild me to be stronger than I knew I could be. I loved him. I always had, I always would, and I still do to this day.

Looking back, I would've changed so many things, said so many things had I known he had only months to live.

* * *

**A/N: Hmm ^_^ Now is where it gets good. **


	16. Fires

**September, 1867 **

I remember the year preceding Okita's death being energized with a sort of terminal suspense. Traveling throughout the city of Kyoto, I could almost taste the anxious hum of the people that circulated through the air. Armies were constantly on the move, each morning revealing the outcome of a new battle or assassination attempt that had taken place the night before. I'll never forget the morning I stumbled upon an alleyway covered in blood, several men strewn across the ground with swords protruding from their backs. While change was still being opposed, more and more people could sense that it was useless to fight a shifting wind.

But there were still those that did. Nothing had made that more clear than a bright, crisp day in the middle of September. The maple trees seemed to be on fire with their brilliant bursts of red and yellow and the air was just chilly enough that I wished I had an extra layer of clothing to wear. I was spending the morning on a bridge and letting my mind wander aimlessly as I watched crimson leaves float beneath me on the river. People would walk by, and they were nothing more than shadows that hid me from the sun, until I heard one of them say.

"Look!"

"What is that?"

"Fires in the foothills."

"Do you think it's the Imperialists?"

I turned to look to the south, where several black pillars of smoke were streaming upwards, slowly veiling the sunlight. I shivered, my skin tingling with the memory of the brothel fire. I noticed people starting to panic, some of them running back into the city, other cursing and fleeing away from the potential oncoming army. Then there were those who ran towards the fires, hands firmly grasped around the hilts of their swords. Some of them were ronin, but many were merchants, innkeepers, and simple peasants.

For a while, I watched them run to the black horizon. Were they fighting to protect their city? Their beliefs and pride? Or was it simply to defend the lives of those they loved? To this day I'm not sure what spurred me to join them; a misplaced sense of inspiration, perhaps, or a suppressed death wish. Regardless, I suddenly found myself amongst the battlefields of the revolution.

I stopped at the edge of one of the rice fields, overwhelmed by the horrific scene in front of me. Most of the farmhouses were on fire and some of the crops had started to burn. There were ronin on horseback, their horned helmets making them look like demonic monsters that left trails of black smoke wherever they went. People were screaming as they tried to flee, but the samurai on horseback cut down most of them, their swords tossing wheels of blood into the air. Motionless bodies lay everywhere. Those that had come to defend the town were scarce and hopelessly outnumbered. I watched as one of the farmers tried to defend a woman and her children as they sprinted across the field. One of the mounted samurai spotted them, his helmet fixated in their direction. I was too stunned to move. He galloped hard and fast towards them, shouting some unintelligible war cry as he held his katana above his head. Instead of attacking the farmer, he trampled the other three, using his horse to flatten them into the ground. Then he rode away without looking back, leaving the farmer untouched.

I ran into one of the burning fields, kodachi drawn, scouring the smoke for any of the horned demons on horseback. A feral cry pierced my ears; something so high-pitched and desperate it made me shrink low to the ground in fear. Looking around, I noticed a small boy walking towards me with his arms outstretched, screaming as hard as he could. There was blood dripping down the side of his face, staining the shoulder of his little kimono. His hands looked like they had been burned. When he reached me, he stood in front of me and cried, little arms shaking with each erratic breath he took. I dropped my kodachi to the ground and knelt in front of him.

"It'll be ok. I promise, it'll be ok," I said, not knowing how to do anything else at that moment other than try and comfort him. I gently touched the side of his head to see how badly he was wounded and he screamed into my ear until he had no more breath left.

"Ok, ok—sorry! You're ok. Let's go."

I picked up my kodachi again and started to push him ahead of me. The smoke was getting thicker and the flames were starting to encroach on our escape route. Then I noticed a samurai trotting towards us, the scalding air making him shimmer amongst the fires.

I'd never been so terrified in my life.

Without thinking, I took out the two small throwing knives and searched for the masked rider. His grey horse was easy to spot in the black smoke. I watched as our attacker drew nearer, sword raised above his head, a faceless mask that promised death bearing down on us. I could feel the horse hooves thundering in the ground. Then everything seemed to take an eternity.

I knew the knife hit its target when the horse squealed and swerved. It reared skywards and I could see the hilt of the blade sticking out from the front of its skull. As the horse collapsed in on itself, the samurai leapt from the saddle and calmly walked towards me, katana glinting in the hazy sunlight. I found the hilt of my kodachi and, before I could give myself the chance to reconsider, swung the first blow.

It was the only chance to attack I got. His blade danced around mine, his movements unnaturally fluid. Our swords screamed when they collided, willpower scraping against willpower. I tried to keep my footwork light, and yet his attacking strength meant I had to stay grounded to counter his strikes. All the while, the boy was screaming.

At one point, the ronin turned his attention away from me and started to go after the child.

"No!" I roared, swinging wide across his back. A newfound strength flooded my veins like poison; that primal fury that gave me the upper hand that night in Shimabara. Those demons that I had described to Tamotsu were suddenly unleashed, filling me with such an uncontrollable rage that my scream drowned out the boy.

I was suddenly looking into the eyes of a dead man, my wrist drenched in the warm blood that was pouring from his neck. The man fell to his knees, the point of my kodachi protruding just barely from the back of his skull. I unhooked the blade from its bloody sheath and waited, panting, for the world to come back into view.

The world was too quiet. I could see turquoise-colored uniforms running about the fields, putting out the fires and helping the injured to their feet. I could see that most of the ronin were gone or dead and the threat had passed. The battle was over. But the world was too quiet.

Looking a few feet away, there was a small, dark lump in the grass. I took one step towards it and fell. He was on his side, eyes closed, a clean gash across his little neck still seeping blood.

I must've cradled him for hours, almost washing him clean with all the tears I shed. Rocking him back and forth, keeping his head propped in the crook of my arm.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered. "I'm so sorry. I promised…"

I took one of his tiny, burned hands in mine and squeezed it.

I remember the sun setting with the most brilliant ruby sky behind it. A soft, pink light touched everything.

"Tokio." He reached down and rested his hand on my shoulder. My rocking came to a sudden halt. "Tokio."

"Don't touch me."

"Tokio…let him go. We need to bury him."

My throat closed up, a new wave of tears dripping onto the boy's face. "It'll be ok…" I murmured. "I promise."

It took two men to pry him away from me while Saitou held me back. Once my hands were empty of the life I had failed to protect, I turned on Saitou, beating his chest so hard I skinned my knuckles. He listened wordlessly to every incoherent cry, took every blow as if the blame were his.

Then, just before I lost consciousness, he held me close and I heard him say the most touching thing I've ever heard him say to this day.

"He's ok now…I promise."

* * *

**A/N: ...whew. ok. Not going to lie, I had some tears writing this chapter out. Lots of foreshadowing, lots of character development, very critical point in the story. Hope it's worth the ridiculous waiting gap some of you have endured. Now, excuse me while I go drown myself in some ice cream...**


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